


Chairs Game

by svetlanacat4



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 12:49:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svetlanacat4/pseuds/svetlanacat4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon Solo will share his office with his new partner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chairs Game

 

 

 

 

The man rubbed carefully the two tags with a rag and took a step back, considering his work.

“Good job, Will.”

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Solo!” He cracked an uncertain smile, “Just did as Mr. Waverly asked...” he hesitated, “They brought a desk... and a chair, too...”

Napoleon Solo grinned and put a friendly hand on the man's shoulder. “That's fine, Will. Have a nice day!”

A quite puzzled Will packed his tools and went away.

 

**NAPOLEON SOLO ,Chief Enforcement Agent**

 

He studied the other tag, below.

“As he'll be your partner on a regular basis, Mr. Solo, he'll share your office.”

Logical.

 

**ILLYA KURYAKIN**

 

Napoleon Solo pushed the door and paused at the doorway. They had arranged the two desks, forming some L, which was quite clever, he thought, until he saw... something worn, reddish, stained... picked up in the outermost corner of some dusty attic. On the right, his own smart, comfy black leather armchair. On the left... this.

 

Very few people, among the UNCLE HQ employees, knew this very special Solo's face: tensed forehead, clenched jaws and icy obsidian eyes.

Conversations stopped, everybody freezing at the sight. Napoleon Solo, head of Section 2, walked with determination, carrying a worn, reddish, stained chair.

Of course, no one even thought about smiling or asking anything.

 

Some hallways and elevators later, he entered the Logistics and Supplies area, ignored the dumbfounded secretary and burst in the coordinator's office.

The man opened the mouth, about to bark at the intruder.

Then he saw.

The top Section 2 agent.

Napoleon Solo

Chief Enforcement Agent

Cold. Icy.

And... a chair... THE chair... the chair he had especially chosen for the pinkie commie...

The chair which Napoleon Solo dropped carelessly on the floor. He pointed at the man's armchair. A smart, comfy, black leather armchair. Exactly the same as his own.

“This. In my office. Immediately.”

The voice was controlled. The tone was composed. The eyes...

“Yes... Of course...”

Napoleon Solo was already gone.


End file.
